The Son of Zeus and The Taylor Children
by The Cake Always Lies
Summary: This is a story about a hero, my youngest brother, Baxter Taylor, son of Zeus. However, it is also the story of his mortal siblings, Alta, James and Annie Taylor. Growing up in Victorian England is hard enough but when your sibling brings the world of Greek Mythology down on your doorstep, every day is a fight to stay alive.
1. Chapter 1

**Alta Taylor, 1872, England**

I have never since ran as fast as I did the day Baxter was born. I ran through the corn field at top speed, letting the resilient plant whip the uncovered skin on the back of my leg. Cold dew splattered onto my grey apron and worn out leather boots. The January air was bitter and cold yet I flung my black, woollen coat, something I had long outgrown, over my shoulder as I ran, not wanting to waste time putting it on.

I sprinted until the uneven, muddy ground morphed into a cobbled path that then leads to a street, lined with large, terraced housing. I then started to jog as I passed building after building of the identical, middle-class housing. I was the best long distance runner in my town so I had the stamina to spare but the last thing I wanted was to meet my new sibling sleepy and exhausted.

As I came towards the final few houses on the street, two small figures raced out of one to meet me, 'Alta!' they called, cheering and waving their hands above their head. My little brother James waved me over, jumping up and down on the steps that lead to the front door, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. The boy left school the same time as me but always beat me by at least twenty-minutes and he never seemed to pass me. Despite my constant questions, the boy would just flash me a devilish smile as he slowly walked away from me.

"He is here, he is here!" my little sister Annie cheered, her chubby little, toddler legs trying to carry her down the steps as fast as they could.

"He?"

"You're not supposed to tell her Annie!" James whined, stomping his feet in frustration. Annie just gave a little giggle as she gripped my hand tightly in hers and pulled me towards the open door. James watched us go past, trailing in after us, chuntering to himself.

"Hello?" Annie sang as she pulled me to the base of the stairs that lead to the upper two floors. Although, one was where our nanny and cook slept, the attic.

Annie called again and this time, a pretty, dark-haired women leant over the bannister and looked down at us. She narrowed her brown eyes when she saw us, leaning against the smooth mahogany. "Oh, wonderful, there are more," she said dryly, fixing the bonnet on her head.

"Where did you think I had gone?" I shouted back up, a smile playing on my lips.

"Hm, a woman can dream," she sighed vanishing from view. "Well, come on up you three,' she sounded slightly more cheerful but none of us were fooled. Mrs Ambrosia had made it very clear from the start that she disliked us. It brings up the question why she would take up the job of being our nanny but I had assumed she just needed a job. Our last nanny just left in the middle of the night, no goodbye or anything. The next morning, while my father was trying to convince my heavily pregnant mother to look after us for the day, Mrs Ambrosia appeared at the door. She walked in and stated she was our new nanny. Father agreed, introduced us and left for work. Mrs Ambro, on the other hand, gave us a stick of rock and told us to leave her alone for the rest of the day.

She was never mean towards us but she was not friendly either, most of all to my fetus sibling and mother. When my mother asked about her family, she just scowled at her bulging stomach before, with a forced smile, saying 'Oh, you know, same as always,'. She had her faults but at least she didn't mommy cuddle us. At least, that is what she told us.

"You hate us, don't you Mrs Ambrosia?" James said when he reached the dark haired woman.

"Hate...is a very strong word, James," she sighed, ruffling my brother's hair slightly, "now come along, your father wants to see you-"

"What about mother and the new baby?" Annie asked, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Ah, yes, them too," we followed her into the master bedroom, the bright, afternoon sun streaming in through the window. My mother lay on the bed, cradling our sibling in her arms, my father by her side, stroking the child's head.

"You have a healthy little brother," our mother said, a large smile on her face. She was beautiful young women, the effect of four pregnancies vacant from her face. Like nanny, she had curly brown hair and dark, chocolate brown eyes but she was far more beautiful, something Mrs Ambrosia had already shown great envy over.

"Well that's a shame," she muttered under her breath as she watched the chooing child carefully. Little did we all know, these snarky remarks were just the start of something that would bring our perfect life crashing down.

This is a story about a hero, my youngest brother, Baxter Taylor, son of Zeus. However, it is also the story of his mortal siblings, Alta, James and Annie Taylor. Growing up in Victorian England is hard enough but when your sibling brings the world of Greek Mythology down on your doorstep, every day is a fight to stay alive.

The photo you see of me and my siblings was the last photo ever taken of us before everything came crashing down. The last time our parents ever smiled proudly at us and just one of the many times Mrs Ambrosia looked at Baxter with disgust.

You know the story of Demi-Gods but now it's time to hear our story. The story of three frightened children trying to survive and keep their little brother safe against all cost. A story everyone tries to forget.

* * *

 **My first story, I am super nervous about this. I have had this idea for a while and I finally got it down. Please let me know what you think. I hope you enjoyed and stick around for more.**


	2. All Hail The New Lord!

**Theodore Kasius: London, 1880**

I swung my head in time with the loud drums that vibrated through my bones. Each strike making my blood boil with anticipation of what was to come. The air became cool and still as I closed my eyes and released all my morals and fears. I could feel them silently fall away from me and drift away into blackness like a child drifting away into slumber. The cheering crowds vanished so the slow beat of the drum was all that surrounded me.

I opened my brown eyes and looked at my opponent who was posed for battle, their axe held across their chest. I could see the well-disguised fear that filled his blue eyes and the way his hand shook at the mere sight of me. I smiled softly and raised my axe high above my head and swung it to the beat of the music earning a loud cheer from the crowd.

This was the final stage I had to complete before I reached my goal. The goal I had been working towards since I was five years old. The chance to become the champion of the underground. I had endured rigorous training for the past ten years so I could become one of the fifteen to take part in the final competitions to see who my grandfather would put forward. I had gone through every class from survival to earning popularity and gave my all during battles with my fellow finalists and now here I was. Only one opponent stood between me and my place as this year's champion. I had been fought well and in every battle, the most I walked away with was a bruise or a slight cut but I wasn't bigheaded. My opponent was here for a reason. Like me, he had destroyed every contestant he had been given in the final and it only took one slip up for me to end up in a bloody heap on the floor.

"Five…four..." My breath became calm as our ringmaster started counting down. I lowered my axe to my side, the tip of the handle facing my opponent and the blade facing the crowd of younger trainees. I smirked as I heard a few snigger at the way I held my axe but what to them was a dumb mistake, was the reason I had got this far. I didn't fight the old fashioned way and put my own twist on moves I was taught. Using the same moves as everyone else never did anyone good and it looked like I would have to be the one to teach them that.

"three...two...ONE!" I moved forward the second my trainer bashed the gong behind him. I charged at the boy who held the axe in the regular position with the blade facing towards me. By the time he had swung his axe far enough back to gain enough momentum to be deadly, I was already on him.

I turned quickly but gracefully when I reached him, my axe swinging with the movement of my body. It cut through the air and struck him above the elbow, scraping bone as I pulled my blade across his muscular arm.

He screamed out in pain and swung his axe towards my tall frame. I saw the quick flash of silver and dropped my right leg to the ground and crouched down, just below his swing. He grunted in anger as he brought his axe back round and swung it down towards me in a straight cutting motion. I leaped to the side and swung my leg round making him slightly lose his balance earning a loud shriek from him as his foot slip from under him. Twisted ankle. I had them enough to know they were painful as hell and could affect your performance.

I swung my axe towards his legs and struck his knee caps and with a blood-curdling scream and crack, he fell forwards, his axe raised above his head. As he fell forward, his axe slid across the floor away from him.

I watched as my opponent let out a bloodcurdling scream as his hands grasped to his caved in knee cap. My breath was heavy and pained but judging by the river of tears falling from my opponent's eyes, I was better off. I looked at my four finger right hand and started to feel better about it. My index finger was nothing but a stump now horrid but I had completed the first part of my mission. I quickly calmed and rose to accept my victory. I had deserved it, I am Theo Kasius after all

People cheered and chanted my name as I allowed last year's champion to place a gold medal around my neck. It might have seemed strange to other people, the grandson of a Lord fighting in an underground battle below his own house. However, I had spent my whole life locked away from public view, the manor house being the only thing I ever knew. My mother and grandfather said it was for my own good but it needed some sort of outlet. That proved to be the ring. Even then, my grandfather did extensive research into each opponent. I guess they had done their job because here I was, alive and kicking.

As I roared towards the crowd, my adviser, Priscilla Polton, scooted over me. She was a much taller woman with curly, black hair and piercing grey eyes not to mention how beautiful she was. She was the opposite to me. She was cool and collected, always having a plan for a situation where I was far more impulsive. As for looks, I was a short, muscular boy with slicked black hair, tanned skin and buggy brown eyes with a face so battered, it looked like my mother had struck me with a frying pan. Yes, I was far from the best-looking fish in the sea. I was still pretty cool, though.

"Master Theodore," Priscilla said, sounding deflated and defeated. "It's your grandfather," I could tell by the pitiful look in her eyes that this was no routine meeting. It was something I had feared since he got ill. Before I had time to let it all sink in, the tanned girl grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the spiral staircase that took us up to the manor house.

I got on with Priscilla, despite there being seven years difference. We always talked and laughed, she was also the only person in the world who could match me in a fight. She was far smarter than me, catching me off guard every time and I was pretty smart. However, this time, I just let her lead me to my grandfather's chambers in silence. I kept telling myself that my gut feeling was wrong but when I got closer and the empty halls were filled with the heart broken sobs and blood filled coughs, I could no longer stop the tears from falling down my face. I tried to pull away from Polton but she swung me around and threw me into the dark bedroom.

I whimpered as I look at my grandfather laid in bed, crowded by family members. My grandfather rolled over and smiled, his sunken blue eyes falling on me. He weakly waved the rest of the family out of the room. When someone tried to take my mother and Priscilla with them, my grandfather told them off. "Sorry my Lord," his butler said, quickly shutting the door and leaving us in silence.

"Theo, I don't have much time but there is something you need to know," he said breathlessly holding out his skinny arm and allowing to take me. He then looked off to the ceiling. , "allow me a few more moments, please," he whispered before turning back to me, a large smile on his lips. "About your father-"

"I don't want to talk about him, he left mother alone at the altar with me while he rushed off with some common woman-"

"That was a lie," he said bluntly, glancing over to my mother who hung her head in shame. "People shunned me for allowing you to be the heir to my estate, imagine if they had known you mother was not even dating him," he half laughed at this but my mother turned away from me, unable to look me in the eye. "Yes it was a sinful act but when I held you in my arms and understand what you was, I couldn't bring myself to throw you on the streets," this took a few seconds to register. Here I was thinking my father was some sort of cruel, twisted man when in fact, he most likely was not even aware of my birth.

"Then who was he?"

"We don't know," my mother said, "He never gave me a real name-"

"It's Hephaestus, I am telling you-"

"Hush child!" my grandfather snapped at Priscilla who apologised and sank to the corner of the room. He then turned back to me "Once you know, you will spend your life in danger-"

"I am not sure I want to know then-"

"I know you can look after yourself, but promise me this," he said, his voice far weaker than before. "I have done many bad things in my life and I don't expect mercy in death but Theo, be a good man for me...don't condemn your life to what I have to now suffer through," he whispered, referring to all the children he had made homeless and sold into child labour to gain more money that he would never use. "But don't let the Kasius bloodline fall, it's why I never sent you to that pathetic camp, I can't risk losing my only heir-"

"He would have been safer there," Priscilla scoffed, earning an angered look from my mother. I had no clue what they were talking about but there was only one thing on my mind.

I knelt down at my grandfather's bedside, holding his hand in mine and looked him in the eye. "What secret have you withheld to protect me?" I asked, fearing the answer but wanting to know before he died.

He offered me a weak smile, stroking my face and looking me in the eyes. "Boy, your father is a God," he laughed, like he was going insane before his body jolted and the laughing came to a sudden stop. Priscilla had to remove me from the bedroom, kicking and screaming.

There, in the hall, outside the bedroom, I was met with a large group of people, every family member and servant in the house who had come to see my grandfather off. They all knelt when they spotted me, taking their hats off and bowing their heads, despite the fact that most were crying.

"Long live Theodore Kasius, Lord of Yarbrough," my grandfather's brother announced, tears spilling down his face.

"Long live Lord Theodore Kasius!" everyone else cheered behind him, refusing to look up at me. After that, I was no longer Master Theo, I was Lord Theodore.

Becoming the Lord of a large part of England is not the easiest process in the world. Between meetings with the fellow elite, my own family members trying to prove that I was not a legitimate heir to my grandfather's estate and building strange but useful contractions just to keep myself sane, I forgot all about the final ramblings of my grandfather about my father. Until three years after his death, on the evening on my twenty-first birthday.


End file.
